


was ich liebe das wird verderben

by feistycadavers



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Bickering, Corey Taylor is a Nuisance, Emetophilia, Frottage, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Spit Kink, Vomiting, Wet & Messy, what's better than this? guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 11:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistycadavers/pseuds/feistycadavers
Summary: “Oh, shit,” Corey says, stepping the rest of the way into the bathroom. “Were you jerking off?” Jim grabs the cap of the water bottle sitting next to the toilet and chucks it at Corey. It pings off his arm.“Fuck you,” Jim says, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “I told you you didn’t have to come in here, dude. Jesus. Go down to the lobby for like five minutes so I can finish in peace.”or, the one where jim has a puke kink and is just trying to beat off and make himself puke in peace but as usual, corey taylor is a fucking nuisance.





	was ich liebe das wird verderben

**Author's Note:**

> no i won't elaborate
> 
> leave me and my puke kink alone to die
> 
> like this is actually really gross so y'know, proceed with? awareness? that it's disgusting?
> 
> we be screening comments first folks!! title from was ich liebe by rammstein and translates loosely to "what i love, it will be ruined".
> 
> ETA: i forgot to mention this is supposed to be like vol3 or come what(ever) may era cuz like Need That Long Hair Jim and if corey's got the bi flag hair that's even better
> 
> EDIT 2/19/2020: i did a DVD commentary for this fic [here!!](https://bringmoreknives.dreamwidth.org/119708.html)

The first thing Corey hears when he gets back to the hotel room is Jim throwing up in the bathroom. 

Which, _shit_ — it figures the one time Corey decides to go out with some of the rest of the band without Jim, Jim’s sick. He’s back early on account of they got turned away at the door for quote unquote _ starting a scene_.

Whatever. Their loss. 

Corey hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should knock before he says something, or if Jim heard him get back and knows he’s here. Again, there’s the sound of stomach contents being emptied into the toilet. Corey taps his knuckles against the door twice. 

“Hey bud,” he says. “You good?” 

Jim coughs on the other side of the door, spits. 

“Yeah, m’fine,” Jim says, sounding rather not fine. 

“You sure, man?” Corey asks, placing his hand flat on the molding next to the doorknob. “I can hold your hair out of the way.” 

“I’m _ fine_,” Jim says, a little more forcefully this time. Corey hears him shift around, lean back against the wall. “What happened to partying?”

“Long story,” Corey says. He pauses. “Well, it’s not a _ long _ story, but it’s not a _ good _ one, so.”

Jim is quiet, then. 

“You sure you don’t need me to come in there?” Corey asks.

“Positive,” Jim says. He doesn’t sound positive, and Corey’s an asshole, so he tries the doorknob anyway. It’s unlocked. He peers in, and there’s Jim, slumped back against the wall, looking decidedly flustered, cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat under his bangs. He draws his knees up to his chest, face going even more red, bringing an arm up to push his hair back off his forehead. “Dude. I told you I’m fine.” Jim’s hand is wet with spit or puke, the other hand hiking his pants up as best he can while still sitting.

And hiding his boner, apparently.

“Oh, shit,” Corey says, stepping the rest of the way into the bathroom. “Were you jerking off?” Jim grabs the cap of the water bottle sitting next to the toilet and chucks it at Corey. It pings off his arm.

“Fuck you,” Jim says, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “I told you you didn’t have to come in here, dude. Jesus. Go down to the lobby for like five minutes so I can finish in peace.”

(It’s not like this isn’t an unheard of occurrence on tour. Accidentally interrupting somebody’s jerk off sesh. It’s just that it usually doesn’t involve Jim, though, therefore Corey isn’t interested, and it also usually doesn’t involve vomit.)

(It’s also not like they haven’t mutually jerked off before, y’know, when tiny motel rooms and bed sharing necessitated and somebody needed to do a maintenance wank.)

(If they made out a few times while doing that, it was also an accident.)

Corey doesn’t verbally answer that. He just shuts the bathroom door behind him, and Jim groans at him, exasperated. Corey drops to his knees between Jim’s legs, and Jim sort of resigns into it, figures this is happening. It’s not Jim’s fault Corey’s so nosy about all of his various rituals around beating off. It’s just that this one is. New.

“You’re good,” Corey says. “I just wanna see what you were doing.”

Jim hesitates under Corey’s gaze for a moment. He sucks his teeth, sighs, and picks up the water bottle next to the toilet, nearly half empty. 

“Scoot back a little,” Jim mumbles, and Corey does. Jim sits up, and Corey admires his throat as he chugs down about half the remainder of the water. He waits, and Corey watches, till Jim shifts back up over the toilet, hair hanging around his face, shoves his first two long fingers into his mouth, all the way down to the knuckle. Jim’s shoulders jerk up when he gags, pushes further, then he retches as a flood of watery vomit comes spilling over his hand, his whole body curling in on itself just barely. Jim withdraws his hand and spits, reaches down into his lap with his wet hand.

“Fuck,” Corey says.

For all the times he’s seen people vomit -- hell, even seen _ Jim _ vomit, Corey never really thought about it in a sexual context. Probably weird for him, considering how many times he’s been peed on or had toes in his mouth. He’s seen Jim puke into his mask dozens of times on tour, but this is. A lot.

Jim’s got his knee up, hiding where he’s jerking off behind his thigh, and Corey shifts back over closer, pulls his leg back. Jim scoffs a laugh, and falls back against the wall.

“If you wanna watch so bad,” he remarks, dropping his head back. His shirt is rucked up around his waist, black jeans undone, lazily working his cock. Jim’s mouth falls open, bottom lip catching the shitty fluorescent light, wet with spit or puke. Fuck. Shit. _ Fuck _. Corey knees himself even closer, brings his hand up to push Jim’s hair back out of his eyes, ringed red and watery and green.

“Can I do it?” Corey asks.

“I’m not gonna get to the toilet quick enough if you do,” Jim says. A threat. A promise?

Corey brings his hand around to the back of Jim’s head, holds it so it won’t knock against the wall, then lifts his fingers to Jim’s mouth. Jim lets him in. Corey rubs his fingertips over Jim’s tongue, feels him shudder. Corey pushes deeper and Jim gags, a gush of puke pouring over his fingers, just enough to drip onto his shirt. 

“You good?” Corey asks. Fuck. He’s pretty sure his dick is hard enough to smash glass right now.

“Uh huh,” Jim says around Corey’s fingers. Corey pushes again and Jim gags reflexively, vomits in earnest, sick spilling over Corey’s hand and down his shirt into his lap. Jim’s grip on his cock tightens, stroke slick with puke, and Corey’s brain might melt out his ears.

“Fuck,” Corey huffs out. “Let me.” Jim nods before Corey even gets the sentence out, so Corey just undoes his belt, gets impossibly closer to Jim, nearly in his lap. He fumbles his cock out, brings his wet hand down to squeeze the edge off.

“C’mere,” Jim murmurs, pulling Corey in by the thigh with his free hand, enough that their knuckles knock together where they’re both touching their dicks. Corey’s breath hitches. They’ve never actually crossed the boundary of actually _ touching each other_, and that seems like an invitation. Corey doesn’t really get the chance because Jim beats him to it, brushing Corey’s hand away and getting his grip around both of them at once, and Corey jerks up into it. Jim cranes his head forward and Corey kisses him, tastes bile, moans against his mouth. “I need the rest of the water,” Jim says into Corey’s lips, and Corey nods, reaches blindly for it next to him. He nearly knocks it over when he finds it, but he lets Jim turn his head, brings it to his lips, and Jim drinks. He downs the last of it and Corey tosses the empty bottle aside, smashes their mouths together again.

“You’re so fucking good,” Corey breathes, feeling his jeans already starting to soak through. Jim purrs in response and Corey shoves his fingers back down Jim’s throat, making him retch. He vomits over Corey’s hand, into their laps and over Jim’s hand around their cocks, stringy and slimy like deep throat spit. “You got more for me?” Corey asks softly, and Jim nods, tears spilling over his lashes as Corey fingers deeper into his throat. Corey’s dicking up into Jim’s grip, swears when more sick comes flooding up, pulls his hand out just so he can kiss him again. Jim grabs onto Corey’s hair, both of his fists tightening, and Corey can’t help the moan that slips out at the sting at the back of his scalp. “Fuck, _ Jim-- _”

“Gonna come,” Jim grits out, kissed red mouth falling open, and Corey nods quickly, grinding his length up into Jim’s, nearing his own end. Corey drops his forehead against Jim’s as he cries out, spilling hot over both of them, his fist. Corey steadies himself with his hands on Jim’s shoulders, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Fuck,” Corey hisses, cock jerking hard, coming streaks across Jim’s vomit-soaked shirt. Jim’s panting against his mouth and Corey rides it out in his grip, fingers winding up in his hair, gasping between messy kisses.

“Jesus Christ,” Jim groans, dropping his head back against the wall.

When Corey comes back to Earth, the post-orgasm clarity hits. That they’re both covered in puke and jizz and spit. 

“Well, it’s not the worst thing we’ve ever had to send in the laundry,” Corey remarks.

“Fuck you,” Jim says. “_Jesus_.”

“Whatever,” Corey says, kissing Jim again anyway. Jim doesn’t protest. “So. Wanna co-shower or is that too weird?”

“I hate you,” Jim says. “But. Yeah. I'd like to.”

Corey only gets up to turn the hot water on after making out with Jim for so long that he’s positive Jim will want to fuck around in the shower.

**Author's Note:**

> skold.tumblr.com
> 
> wanna send me a prompt/request? [here's my personal prompt meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/marinaspromptmeme/profile)


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